Crossing the Broca Divide
by Moonshayde
Summary: Passages from Daniel's journal throughout The Broca Divide. After the ordeal, Jack offers his support and wisdom while Daniel reflects on his growing friendship with the colonel.


Title: Crossing the Broca Divide

Author: Moonshayde

Season/Category: Missing Scene/Epilogue/Other

Season One

Spoilers: Stargate the movie, Children of the Gods, The Broca Divide

Pairing/Character: Jack/Daniel

Summary: Snippets from Daniel's journal as he attempts to make sense of the events which occurred in the episode, "The Broca Divide." Concludes with support from Jack O'Neill as Daniel tries to make sense of the growing friendship between the two of them.

Rating: PG

Author Notes: I've posted a few stories here, but I never bothered to post my very first Stargate story. So here it is! Everyone cringe with me! Thanks Mel for checking this one out for me!

_Disclaimer: Stargate, Stargate SG-1 and all of its characters, titles, names, and back-story are the property of MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions, SciFi Channel, and Showtime/Viacom. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. This story cannot be printed anywhere without the sole permission of the author. Realize this is for entertainment purposes only; no financial gain or profit has been gained from this fiction. This story is not meant to be an infringement on the rights of the above-mentioned establishments_

* * *

P.A. (Post Abydos)—March Log 

We've officially been on a few missions since the incident on Chulak, so I've taken the liberty to begin a logging system for all of our excursions through the Stargate. I've always kept journals of my many trips, no matter how mundane or exotic, including the Abydos trip and the disaster afterward. I'm not about to stop now, but I figure if I started some sort of labeling system, it would make things easier. I'll just use these as a resource for any "official" reports that may need to be written.

In just two hours, we begin our briefing of our next mission. It's something to do with Chulak. I know analysts have been working feverishly to try to pinpoint were the Goa'uld may have gone from Chulak. Maybe we've finally made a breakthrough. I can't help but feel like maybe this is it. Jack's become increasingly impatient and I don't blame him. Our motivations might be slightly different, but we both want the same thing in the end. I think. I hope.

* * *

The briefing was…interesting, for lack of a better term. Many analysts here on the base have been working on the intelligence gathered from Chulak. We need to know where the Goa'uld have gone. Not that I am enthusiastic about seeing them again. Who would be? But it's necessary. We need to find them. I need to find them. 

Our new lead is a planet called P3X—Wait, let me check my notes. P3X-797. Now why they call it this, I have no idea. Sam argues it's all through the computer and based on binary code. I don't see why we can't give it another name. Any name? The people on P3X-797 must have a name for their home. Binary is lacking.

But the planet's name isn't the only thing that causes me concern. We sent a probe through the Gate and we can't see anything. Nothing at all. This world is covered in complete darkness? Is that even possible?

While the idea itself is truly fascinating and warrants further investigation, I'm still hesitant.

The worst part is that it appears the camera mount on the probe was destroyed. Destroyed. Meaning, gone. No video playback at all. Am I the only one who seems to think this is a problem? It appears so. After I voiced my concerns to General Hammond and the team, they made the decision to proceed anyway.

"This is crazy," I said. SG-3 will be coming with us. Cover our backs? Sorry if I am a little skeptical here. As I said before, it's my front side that I am far more worried about. It's ridiculous to have SG-1 go first, into something complete foreign and dark. Did I say dark? I know the SG-1 is a first contact team, but SG-3 are marines. Last time I checked, there weren't any marines in SG-1. Teal'c can be—is formidable—but there is only one of him. And he's not a marine.

Jack can handle himself fine, of course. And I've seen Sam in action. And I am not so bad with a gun. But I want to emphasize once again that we're going head first onto a planet without light after our probe was attacked. I don't think I need to comment anymore on it. Nothing I can do at this point anyway. We leave in just less than an hour.

Damn! I'm going to be late!

* * *

I was late. But that's not important. What we found was amazing! Well, horrifying too, but still amazing. This planet is divided; half is covered in darkness while the other half is full of light. Vegetation seems to flourish on both sides. I don't even see how that is scientifically possible. But I'm not a botanist. But the whole idea itself? If we could learn more about how that can occur, we could bring some of that research into our own world. 

But there is more!

The people are divided as well. There are more primitive, archaic humans on the Dark Side of the planet while there are anatomically modern humans on the Light Side. Could humanity have evolved separately on the same planet?

It is doubtful. Even though here on Earth we had the Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens co-existing, the people on the worlds we explore have been taken from populations from ancient Earth. Populations that, so far, have all demonstrated a level of culture and organization that includes a written vocabulary.

These people, or whatever they were, didn't seem to have that level of advancement. And I haven't heard of the Goa'uld taking humans before they were humans, as we know them. What would the Goa'uld need with primitive man anyway? That doesn't make sense. Plus, the conversations we had with Tuplo—He's the head, the leader, of the governing body that guides the people that we met that are human—didn't fit with this theory either. In fact, nothing seems to fit. I'll get to that in a few minutes.

If we could study them, the Touched, as Councilor Tuplo calls them, we might be able to shed some light on the division on their planet. Maybe we could even learn something about our own human origins. Imagine being able to finally unlock the key to our past? It's the kind of feeling that can keep a man awake all night.

In the end, it wouldn't be me researching human origins. I have a partial background in the field, by nature of my studies, but really, I'm no expert. Besides, I've already had my share of contact with them.

Which is precisely why SG-3 should have gone through the Gate first. They attacked us, whatever form of humanoid they are, in the dark. I think one of them tried to rip my head off.

I understand where Jack was coming from, though, and why he thought we should go first. If we crossed through the Stargate and found Sha're and Skaara, we would have the chance to save them. SG-3 wouldn't have been as accommodating. But it still would have been nice to have Makepeace and his men get a piece of the action. I am more than willing to share.

But if it weren't for them, we'd probably still be there right now, so I can't complain too much.

I must admit, as fascinating and intriguing as the Touched were to watch and study, what interested me the most on our trip were the Untouched, as they called themselves. We encountered them while we were secretly observing some of the Touched's behavior, some time after we had secured ourselves on the planet. When we approached them, they believed we were their gods (of course) and brought us back to their city over in "the Land of Light."

Clearly, they had a Bronze Age technology, one that seems to have its roots in Minoan culture, as represented by the numerous bull statues found through the city. (Bulls! We never fully understood the significance of the bulls on Earth!) I didn't have the opportunity to study the kind of tools or technology used on the Dark Side of the planet, but they seemed to be able to control fire, as we noted while watching them gather over their hearth, and my guess is they use some sort of stone flake technology.

Trying to obtain any useful information on the difference between the Touched and the Untouched proved rather difficult, however. And this is why I don't think the Touched and the Untouched evolved separate of each other. Tuplo has a strong belief in his gods. We managed to discover that the Untouched believe the Hilk'sha came to their world and cursed some of their people. Hence, we have the Touched. And based on Tuplo's behavior, I figure that even though the Hilk'sha are no longer there, the threat of being cursed is still present in the minds of the Untouched, whether it be real or imagined. Maybe it's just a myth? Something tells me different.

Anyway, loosely translated, Hilk'sha means, "gods of the earth." Or as Teal'c stated, correcting me, "gods of the underworld." We surmised that the Untouched believed us to be their "good" gods here to assist them. We also ruled out any recent Goa'uld presence.

That was enough for Jack. No Goa'uld, no mission. No matter how much I insisted that we should stay, trying to convince him of the significance in studying their culture, he wouldn't hear it.

"Art appreciation is not what this mission is about," he'd stated.

Then what is the point of meeting people? We could learn so much about ourselves, our history, and I know that is just as important as finding alien technology to help fight the Goa'uld.

Even Sam agreed with me on this one. Learning from the Untouched gives us an opportunity we just can't pass up. I fully intend to make my point to General Hammond on this issue. If I could have some time to speak with Councilor Tuplo, the others, and his daughter Milosha...

Which I am starting to feel guilty about. She was being attacked by the Touched and I advised that we shouldn't get involved. I argued that was how their society worked. While we sat and watched, and I studied the group's behavior by the fire, I did nothing as one of them violently had his way with her. If the Untouched hadn't appeared to rescue her—they wore these curious white robes and masks while throwing rocks at the Touched—then she would probably be dead now.

Sam called it rape. I tried to explain my perspective on the issue, but I could tell she was angry. Part of me still feels it is wrong for us to interfere. The other part of me remembers Sha're and her plight. I couldn't leave her and the Abydonians to a life of slavery. What good are we if we gate to other worlds and turn our backs on those who need help? I swear if I had the opportunity again, I would have acted differently. I hope she is okay.

I can still see her crying in the isolation chamber, while we sat with the Untouched eating a meal. What was strange is they appeared to be more afraid of her than for her. Her own father ignored her.

I had wanted to tell them that they were wrong. A person's evolutionary state is not a curse. It's not like she could catch it and bring it to them like the flu. But they seemed to have enough problems grasping the fact we weren't gods. Breaking into a scientific treatise would have been pointless.

But I don't have the time to dwell on it now. Debriefing is about to start and I need to make sure I am not late this time.

* * *

Well, that was certainly odd. Lt. Johnson attacked Teal'c at the end of the debriefing. I had an idea that Johnson had misgivings about Teal'c. Many people do. Johnson has a reputation of being a bit of a hot head, but he usually has more restraint than that, or so I've heard. He actually jumped the table and practically flew at Teal'c. Just because Teal'c is a Jaffa? And once was in the service to the Goa'uld Apophis? His people are enslaved, just as our ancestors were. His ancestors were from Earth. We have some commonality. Teal'c is not the type who can stand by and let injustice happen, once he is passionate enough. And despite my own personal feelings about Teal'c, I understand he is committed to fighting the Goa'uld. People working here at the SGC should realize that by now. 

Besides, Jack believes in him and General Hammond supports him.

Teal'c is fine.

As for Lt. Johnson, he's been taken to the infirmary to be evaluated. He might be sick, and probably ate something spoiled in the mess hall. After his outburst, I thought I noticed some foaming near his mouth. I hope it's nothing serious, though it would explain why he'd been so irritable.

The good news is that I was able to convince Hammond of the importance of exploring different worlds through the Stargate. Well, I should clarify. The President feels that the Stargate missions should be more holistic in its approach, and explore anything of scientific and cultural significance. (I knew I was right voting for him!) Take that, Jack!

I won a battle before it even started; I wish I had known before I created a scene.

So, as soon as Lt. Johnson is feeling better, we'll head back to P3X-797 to speak with Councilor Tuplo again.

I've been thinking about the divide. Were the Hilk'sha the Goa'uld? Had they come generations ago and changed half the populous somehow? Is that why the Untouched are afraid they too may be cursed? The Goa'uld certainly hadn't been there recently. So, the divide could not have happened any time soon, nor could it still be occurring. Maybe by using the principles founded by the anthropologist/craniologist Broca, we'll be able to make sense of the deep schism on the planet.

* * *

There was another incident. What's going on? Have people lost their minds? I was in the Gateroom with Sam when we witnessed two soldiers crash through the plate glass that surrounds the control room above and land on the ground near us. 

They were beating the hell out of each other. We called for medical personnel, but we were already too late.

I don't understand the military sometimes. I'm going to grab some coffee and get back to work.

I've been doing some research on the Internet concerning human origins. And after I don't know how long, I only managed to scratch the surface of all the information out there on the different hominid and hominoid species. So much has changed since I studied it in college.

Right now, I am concentrating on the Australopithecines. It's remarkable reading, but they don't quite match the description of the Touched. Perhaps I was closer earlier when I thought to compare them with Homo erectus. But even then…I don't know. I am surely not an expert in this sub-field. And will my research accomplish anything in the end? These people aren't from Earth. Well, originally, they were, but I don't feel that has any bearing on this current problem. And based on what Tuplo said, they are cursed. "Cursed" is a far cry from the evolutionary process. But maybe I can find something that will help us interact with the Touched to better understand what is going on over on P3X-797.

I think I will bring what I found over to Jack and get his input. Wait, what am I thinking? This is Jack we're talking about. I think I'll show it to him anyway. Besides, I need more coffee.

* * *

I'm not really sure what to say right now. Jack would have some sarcastic comment, some joke, about it, I'm sure. So now-now, I'm trying to get my thoughts in order to focus. Focus is a good thing. Writing helps, but I don't know how long I have. Oh, God. 

There is no easy way to try to word this. And it's hard for me to keep my wits about me even though I need to remain as calm and focused as ever. Especially for their sake.

Jack, Sam…What am I going to do? What will happen to them? To everyone? What if this can't be stopped? God, what if it's permanent? What if it spreads beyond the base and infects the entire world? Look at what the human race has accomplished. Gone. So quickly. Years of evolution wiped out.

And then…Sha're. Have I failed you? Will I even know you if I were ever to see your face again?

I can't think like this. I need to stay focused.

I didn't know what to say when Jack told me Sam had attacked him. Correction—had come onto him. I didn't think. Does that mean I am infected too? I was so eager to share with him the information I had acquired online, all I could mutter was, "Oh, you poor man." Then it sunk in, finally, when he started to speak. Sam was suffering whatever seemed to be plaguing Lt. Johnson, and as I soon discovered, quite a few people on the base.

I wish I had noticed sooner. I wish I could have done something. My body still aches from where he repeatedly punched me. And all because I had simply stated that I wanted to see Sam since I was her friend and concerned for her.

My words must have clicked in Jack's head. And then Jack ceased to exist in the way I knew him. His logic, his sound—and not always so sound— reasoning, his military presence…all gone within seconds. There was no warning, none at all. How can we possibly fight this?

I was hopeful at first. While the contagion spread like a plague throughout the base, Teal'c and I remained unaffected. Same with Dr. Janet Fraiser.

And even she doesn't know what to do. No one does.

What if it's a freak accident that the three of us, and a few of her aides, haven't caught the disease? I was confident that I was immune. Maybe from living on an alien planet for a year?

And Teal'c has his infant Goa'uld symbiote protecting him from contagions, acting like a highly charged immune system. He won't catch it. Nothing seems to affect him. But he feels that I could still develop the symptoms as well. It's great to know he has such confidence in me.

I can't-I won't allow this to happen. There has to be some warning that it is about to take control. I am not going to be stuck in some cage, unaware, with protruding brow ridges, slobbering all over myself while I can only grunt and howl. I will not lose my mind to some parasitic organism.

I've seen what the Touched look like on P3X-797. I've looked at the cells on the base and have seen what my colleagues have become.

I saw Jack.

I went to help Jack. He was screaming, howling, whatever you want to call it. Teal'c and I held him down while Dr. Fraiser gave him a strong sedative so he wouldn't hurt himself.

He's not the same person anymore. Sam's not the same. None of them. It's as bad as watching a mature Goa'uld take over a new host. Maybe.

We should have been smarter than this! Look at what we've accomplished. We should have known. We should have had fail-safes in place in case something was to happen. Damn, why didn't we consider the possibility of off-word contagions? We've lost. I've lost. I've failed Sha're. And Skaara. And Jack and Sam. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Why didn't we think? Is this some form of justice for all the atrocities we've committed? Who knows how far this will reach. Our world could be gone.

Okay. Back to reason, here. Dr. Fraiser says that it's some organism causing this. It's in the blood and is affecting the hormone levels in the body. Or something like that. I wasn't really playing attention when she told me. My mind was a little preoccupied. But I have to stay positive. Janet Fraiser is a professional and she wouldn't have been enlisted to work here unless she was one of the best. She'll figure something out.

I just hope I can stay cognizant to help her. I'm going crazy waiting for my blood test.

* * *

The good news is that my blood work is fine. No trace of the organism. I knew I was immune. Why and how? Well, I can't answer that exactly. Dr. Fraiser is working on that part. 

The bad news is that we have to go back to P3X-797 and obtain blood samples from the Untouched. And when I say "we," I mean just Teal'c and me. Two of us. Against a whole lot of them. I don't have to remind myself the Stargate is on the Dark Side of the planet with all the Touched. General Hammond—who, by the way, doesn't look so well—can't allow anyone else to go off base. Since Teal'c and I were on the planet and came back unaffected, we're the lucky winners.

Me. Alone with Teal'c, the man who gave my wife to the Goa'uld. I know that he's on our side but I would be more comfortable if Jack were here. Even Sam. SG-3 would be nice.

No. Just the two of us. How are we going to do this? Dr. Fraiser gave us a crash course in how to draw blood but that doesn't solve the problem. We have to go through the Dark Side, the Touched, to make it to the Land of Light and then we don't even know if Tuplo will cooperate.

At least now, we know what the curse is. We know why the Touched are the Touched. But will we be able to figure out if it's reversible? If there is a cure?

Oh, wonderful. And now my allergies are acting up. Just what I need. But it's not important—I'll survive. I don't have time to take any anti-histamine medication right now. I have a job to do.

Give me strength, Sha're.

* * *

I've been scribbling in this book for over an hour. I write these journals as logs of all of our missions. They're always personal reflections of the events in my life. It's a way that I can look back to see what I was thinking and feeling, and a way to relive a moment in history. I keep thinking one day, when I hold Sha're again, I can show her where I was, what I had learned. She would turn to me, smile, and just know. It would be like she was there the whole time. 

But what about the times I just want to forget?

Not that I remember. Most of the second half of the mission is a blur to me. I do recall entering the Stargate, a second time. Teal'c and I were making our way to the Light Side when we found Milosha. She was just lying there, unconscious. Why was she there? My guess is that she was abandoned. Just by looking at her, you could tell she was Touched. She was infected.

Well, I couldn't just leave her. Not after ignoring her before. We were heading back to the Land of Light anyway. She didn't ask for this, after all.

Leave it to Teal'c to point out the obvious. He attempted to persuade me to leave her. We needed to get to the Land of Light as soon as possible and complete our mission. We needed those blood samples. Dr. Fraiser needed something to compare to ours.

I should have known. I really should have. But I wasn't going to leave her.

We waited too long. I am not the fastest or strongest man in the world and trying to balance my supplies with an unconscious woman slowed me considerably. Teal'c is formidable, but again he is just one man. He couldn't take them all on.

I wrote phrases, little snippets of my capture by the Touched on a small pad I kept in my pocket. It was dark and I was scared, so they are nearly illegible. That's the best I can recall, aside from some flashes of memory.

Here's what I managed to write:

"Took me. Their campsite. Milosha okay. But Touched."

I remember the campsite, the Touched hollering around the fire. I had tried to communicate with them, but the more I tried, the harder they would kick and tear at my clothes. Finally, I can recall one last attempt to escape while they were distracted.

"No use. Don't understand. Hope Teal'c is okay. Continue mission. I know he will. I'm sorry. Sha're."

I'm not one for self-sacrifice. It makes far more sense to save yourself along with everyone else. (Take note, Jack.) But at that time, I thought maybe my capture would be a good thing, to distract the Touched while Teal'c did what needed to be done.

That feeling did not last long, especially as I found things becoming hazy.

After that, it's blurry, like someone taking a blanket and throwing it over your eyes. There is nothing but darkness, nothingness. It's a place where logic is gone; the ability of self-awareness has left. Then the other side takes over. We're all animals, after all. What happens when humanity is boxed and locked away? I don't want to know.

But yet, there are a few images. Vague ones—teeth, dirt, fire. I knew something was wrong when thinking became difficult. I know I was struggling to keep logical. But the haze was thickening.

I do remember feelings. There was pain as my muscles and bones stretched.

I felt more aware of my body and my surroundings. I could acutely smell the sweat and dirt that was around me. I could smell Milosha and I knew she was watching me.

My hearing, in fact all my senses, seemed to go wild. I was afraid. I knew what was happening and I knew I couldn't stop it. And I was alone. I was going to lose everything, alone, on an alien planet. I think I tried to stop it.

But they kept beating me. I remember that much. I couldn't take it. I remember anger. I remember reaching out.

Then I remember Tuplo's quarters. Teal'c turned to me and handed me my glasses. I had lost them? I thought it was all a bad dream. But Jack was there. Sam was there.

And I was there—in the isolation chamber.

I'm still confused, even now. I find it hard to concentrate, and I can't help but feel ashamed and guilty. It didn't really sink in until now, as I sit here writing this.

I had followed Jack, Sam and Teal'c out into the open as we headed toward the Dark Side of the planet. By then, I was aware that something had happened, though I couldn't remember what, and I had stopped obsessing over why the planet didn't have a better name.

The exodus began. I watched as the Touched, or now the Untouched, stumbled into the Light Side of the planet. They were fine. Tattered, worn, but fine. Jack explained to Tuplo we'd found a cure. We had? My shaky memories started to flood me at that point like a tidal wave.

Oh yeah, I'd missed something important all right. Jack, Sam, the others—they'd all been infected. Teal'c must have found a cure. Or at least provided Dr. Fraiser with what she needed to make a cure. Teal'c must have succeeded where I had failed. Janet Fraiser must have found something.

She did, in fact. Histamine, she told me, smiling pleasantly as she jabbed me with another needle. The organism fed off histamine.

All that education under my belt, and I can be so stupid at times.

The point is, Teal'c, Janet—they all did something. I managed to become prisoner to a bunch of diseased aliens. A lot of help that did.

And what little did I do? Well, I guess that is better left unsaid. I may not remember what happened on P3X-797, but I can sure guess. That's better left locked inside my head. I'll never know anyway. And what I feel isn't important. We saved a whole race of people. There shouldn't be any satisfaction greater than that.

* * *

"Hey, whatcha doing?" 

Daniel Jackson quickly shut the leather bound book, sliding it silently under one of many notepads that cluttered his desktop. Pressing his lips together, he lifted his head, and turned his attention to the door.

"Nothing," he stated simply.

"Nothing?" Jack O'Neill strolled into the small office, humming absently as his brown eyes surveyed the objects that hung, leaned, or perched themselves on shelves, the floor, wherever, fighting for space in the room.

"Doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Work. I'm working." Daniel waved his right hand in an arc over his desk, over a dozen or so odd-shaped items, presenting them to the colonel not unlike a priest offering a sacrifice to his god. "Take your pick."

"Hmm, I don't know. This looks more like sulking than working."

"Sulking?"

Jack shook his head, his face pinched pensively as he studied the desktop items. "Damn, they're all so interesting. I can barely hold my excitement." He paused, staring at Daniel for a moment. Receiving no response, he sighed and looked down again. "This one?"

"That's a miniature replica of an obelisk," Daniel answered, more than a touch of annoyance entering his voice. He slipped his fingers over the desk and carefully started to pull the object away from Jack, bringing it closer and closer to himself. "We found it on P3R-157. I'm still working on translating the faded text. It's also very fragile."

"Right. Right. I knew that." Jack tapped his fingers on a lamp, his gaze rolling around the room.

Daniel stared at Jack. The sooner he understood why he was loitering in his office, the sooner he could get to working on something.

"So…"

"So?"

Daniel sighed, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. "So, why are you here, Jack?"

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill," he replied, standing straight. "Of the Air Force."

"Been practicing that all day?"

Jack looked hurt. "I head up a team called SG-1 and we go to different worlds to seek new technology." He paused. "Or as I scientist I know has begun to say, 'we're peaceful explorers.'"

Daniel did not flinch.

"Alright, you're testing my patience," Jack said lowly, leaning over the desk. He had managed to brace himself, arms wide, his gaze locked hard on Daniel. "What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem, Jack. I'm trying to get work done. So if you don't mind…"

Daniel dropped his gaze, and didn't bother to adjust his glasses as he grabbed a notepad and a pen.

"Bullshit," Jack muttered, snatching the notepad and hitting the pen from his hand. "You've been moping around since we returned from that planet. I've had experience with children and I know when someone is pouting."

"Excuse me? Are you calling me juvenile?" Daniel asked incredulously.

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head. "Though I wouldn't have to if you stopped acting like one."

Then, abruptly, Jack marched over to the opposite side of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms and his glared down at the other man.

Daniel didn't miss the not-so-subtle attempt to show who had the power in this conversation.

"Dammit, Daniel, I've been with you long enough to know that when you're mad or upset, you either start yelling, usually at me, or you withdraw. And that pisses me off even more than the professor speak."

"What? Know me?" Daniel pushed his chair away. "Jack, we've only been on a few missions together." He shook his head. "Professor speak? What?"

"Being stranded with you on Abydos isn't enough?"

"Stranded? It was that bad?"

"Okay. Okay. You're missing the point," Jack said, raising his hands. He took a moment of silence and it appeared he was trying to gather his thoughts. Daniel wished he'd hurry it up. "Okay, I may not know a Greek from an Egyptian. Or a jar from a bowl. I don't know any physics mumbo jumbo Carter likes to spew out. And I am not half as strong as Teal'c. But I do know when a person has something bugging them."

"Really, Jack, there's nothing wrong." Daniel rubbed his face. "I guess I am just a little distracted by all that's happened and all that I have to do."

"Then, we need to have a party."

Daniel stared at him.

"Daniel," he said firmly, holding up his index finger. "Relax. Stop obsessing. We'll let Carter do that."

"Look. It's okay. " Daniel allowed his eyes to roam around the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a source for the lecture he felt coming. If he talked long enough, he could get rid of him.

"Yeah, whatever," Jack mumbled irritably. "I'm sure sitting in here staring at the wall is really healthy for you."

Daniel glared at Jack, trying to break through that wall of stubborn military gusto. No luck.

"If you must know, I haven't been cleared to leave the base yet. Doctor Fraiser wants to make sure that my blood is perfectly clean before I'm allowed outside. I figured while I am here, I could work on the backlog of work I have."

"Backlog? How the hell do you already have a backlog?" He twisted around, surveying the room. "Geez, where the hell did you get all this stuff?"

"Most of it's mine," Daniel stated, hoping his comment didn't sound defensive. "Most of it's research material."

Jack fiddled with an artifact hanging on the wall. "How do Halloween masks help you research alien stuff?"

Daniel rubbed his brow, staring at the colonel. "They're called—"

Jack held up a hand and shook his head. "Well, if it makes you feel better," Jack began, walking toward a bookcase, frowning, "none of us have been cleared. None. Nadda. Just as a precaution." He grabbed a book and opened it. "What language is this one in?"

"English."

"Sure it's not Pig Latin?"

"Pretty sure."

"That's a shame. I'm fluent."

"That is a shame."

Jack smirked, placing the book back on the shelf. He turned back to Daniel. The younger man couldn't help but feel that the colonel was looking for something. Daniel shifted uncomfortably.

"Feeling better?" he asked, tossing a small ball between his hands.

"Um, much better once you stop playing catch with that artifact."

Daniel's expression must have revealed all. Jack wasted no time in placing the spherical object back on the bookshelf. He even took the time to move out of the vicinity of any artifacts, which, Daniel noted, was becoming increasingly more difficult.

"I'm much better, thank you," Daniel stated. He shifted in his seat again. "Doctor Fraiser said the bruises should heal soon."

Jack cringed. "Yeah, sorry about that. Don't remember it." He cocked his head, his brown eyes still studying him. "Did I look like I enjoyed it? I just have to ask."

"I think you did."

"I always wanted to beat up a scientist," he said with a mock grin.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Daniel said lowly. He rubbed at his side and sucked in a deep breath. "Right now, I can't figure if you caused most of the damage, or if someone else did. Or if I did."

"Yeah…" Jack's voice trailed off as he gazed at Daniel.

"That's why you're here, right?" Daniel questioned, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "To see if I am of sound mind?"

"No," Jack muttered, shaking his head. He grabbed a chair and rolled over to Daniel, causing the younger man to jump. "You scientists can be pretty stupid sometimes. I'm here to see if you see that you see you are of sound mind."

"I think you used that word one too many--"

"And see? This is exactly what I knew what would happen."

"What?"

"Carter went through the same thing, albeit briefly," Jack started, casually. "She was all freaked out that she could have gone all ape, especially on me. But I've started to notice that when Carter's mad, she gets this beady eye look and you know she's mad. Wicked Witch of the West style. You know, like when I accidentally switched the whip cream with the shaving cream."

"Yeah, 'accidentally.'"

Jack smiled sweetly. "Oh, you remember."

Daniel pulled off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. What was Jack droning on about this time?

"What does this have to do with anything?" Daniel asked with a sigh.

"Well, she got over it and she's fine now."

Daniel blinked at Jack. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do."

Daniel leaned back in his chair and slapped his arms down on his thighs. "If you are implying that I am having some issues dealing with this mission, you're wrong, Jack. We helped a whole planet of people. Everything worked out okay in the end. It doesn't matter if we were infected. It doesn't matter if I lost myself, my mind, briefly. It doesn't matter that all that I have ever worked so hard for vanished so quickly. It's all insignificant in the grand scheme of things. So, you're wrong."

"Never said anything," Jack said evenly.

"You're thinking it," Daniel said quickly. He squeezed the glasses in his hand, puffing out his checks as he shook his head. "You're thinking that I think I think I have been compromised."

"I think you might have used that word one too many--"

"I think so."

Both men said nothing, leaving an awkward silence between the two.

"What were we talking about?" Jack said at last.

"I don't know," Daniel muttered.

"Oh, right. I remember." Jack leaned back, studying Daniel. "You've been compromised. You forgot that you're not a god, and that you aren't perfect. You got infected with an organism from another planet, like just about everyone else," Jack emphasized, "and now you're cured, just like everyone else. Hell, I don't know what to do with you now. Maybe I should shoot you."

Daniel shot him a frosty glare. "Are you done now? Are you having fun?"

"A blast," Jack snapped.

"Good, I'm glad. I'm going to go now."

"Where?" Jack stood up at the same time as Daniel, and the two men found themselves squared off. "You're stuck here on the base with me."

"Anywhere but here."

"Oh, that's cute. You just don't get it, do you?"

"Get what, Jack?" Daniel moaned, pushing his light brown hair out of his eyes.

"What?"

"None of us care!" He declared, flinging his hands in the air. "It's over and we're all back to normal. Everything is fine. None of us did anything wrong, accept for being careless from the very start. General Hammond and Doctor Fraiser are taking steps to prevent that kind of thing from happening again. But we're all fine and no one cares, or judges, you for what happened. Not like it's your fault, or anything. I don't care that you were a homo erotic or—what the hell was that other one…You're human now and back to your busy-body archaeologist self."

Daniel didn't say a word. He wasn't even going to bother to try to correct him. He just reminded himself how grateful he was Jack had never come to any of his lectures. And grateful they were alone and without tape recorders.

"Uh, right."

"Right. Right?"

Daniel bowed his head, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I just wish I could have done more." He sighed. "Instead, I went and got myself lost among the Touched. I didn't even have the sense to take my anti-histamines."

"Well, now how would you know? Hell, I think you did plenty. You and Teal'c did whatever you could. And Doc Fraiser has been speaking the world about you ever since. All my Black Ops training did squat. " Jack scratched his head. "You were one of the few that were actual immune to the thing. Who would know that allergies could be a good thing?"

Daniel forced a chuckle. "Yeah. I guess we got lucky that Doctor Fraiser has the same condition that I do. And she had enough sense to keep taking her medication."

"See?" Jack shook his head. "You're doing it again."

"If I could have held out a little longer, been a little stronger…"

"A little stronger?" Jack gave a short laugh, and shook his head, a move that caused Daniel's stomach to knot. "You may not remember what happened to you once that organism wormed its way into your system, but I had a front row seat," he said with a grin.

Daniel stiffened.

"You Alpha Male, you," Jack said with a wink.

"I don't remember anything," Daniel said apprehensively.

Jack shrugged. "Probably better that you don't."

Daniel felt his cheeks flush.

"Oh, yeah. You had a Milosha fan club."

Daniel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Terrific.

_If I did anything…forgive me, Sha're._

"By the way, she's still your number one fan," Jack said, his voice much softer this time.

Daniel opened his eyes cautiously. "Why?"

"Teal'c informed both Milosha and Tuplo about your little heroics act. She was smitten. Maybe next time we go, well see a bronze statue of you next to one of them bulls."

For some reason, this struck Daniel funny and he laughed. Jack was obviously pleased at the result, and smiled, sliding next to Daniel and throwing an arm around him. "So, you coming to the party?"

"Party?"

"Yeah, the party. That's the whole reason I came here, you know," he said with a knowing smirk. " Well, and the fact we're still tied to the base. But that's not important. It's for all us former cavemen and women who need to relax and stop stressing. We're even going to have a scene where we re-enact our experience. I got this cute little number for Carter."

Daniel arched an eyebrow. "Sam's going to kill you."

"She can bite me." He grinned.

With a roll of his blue eyes, Daniel shook his head. He was still trying to adjust to this new, different side to Jack, the side that had been suppressed while they had been on their first mission together. This man held the same military strength and leadership qualities as his suicidal predecessor, but with a wit and zest for life Daniel had never noticed in him before.

He decided he preferred this new man to the old one.

Though, he had to admit, it was strange to spend so much time with a man who was his complete opposite. The type of person he would never have associated with during his research days.

Even stranger was the fact there seemed to be some…thing…growing between them. And they had only been on a handful of missions together. They had a bond—one that had started on Abydos—and it had only seemed to grow stronger over the past year, even though they had been living in different parts of the galaxy.

They'd drifted into communicating on a first name basis.

He would never have thought a year ago, when he'd opened the Stargate, that he and an Air Force Colonel would become…friends?

Musing over these thoughts, Daniel wrapped his arms around his chest and watched as Jack continued to discuss his party.

"And Teal'c—I got him a balloon hat. It's going to be fun." Jack bobbled his head back from side to side. "Eeeeh, well it's only cafeteria food, but it's good company." He arched his eyebrows at Daniel and thumbed his jacket. "So?"

"So?"

"And?"

"I'll be right there."

The jovial gleam in the colonel's eyes waned, and the firmness—or was it concern—returned to his features. "You gonna be alright?"

Daniel nodded, sliding his glasses back on his face. "Yeah, I'm going to be fine. I'll be right there."

Jack looked doubtful. "Yeah. Okay. We'll be in the commissary." Jack turned away and walked to the door, careful not to trip over a large drum.

Without another word, he exited, leaving behind him the echo of his fingers tapping the metal walls of the facility.

Daniel looked down at his desk, and picked up a notebook he used to catalogue his artifacts. He tapped the cover with his pen, once, twice, three times and let out a deep breath.

Then he grabbed his journal and wrote quickly:

_We helped a population overcome a plague so now they are free to expand and grow in intellectual pursuits. I guess it's true what they say: you can't appreciate what you have until it's gone. Like with Sha're. Everyday I feel like I grow too, learning more and appreciating more. And sometimes it takes the most insane roundabout ways to learn it. Or the most insane of people. Isn't it funny how so much can be said and felt without actually saying it? Words can't really describe it. You know what I mean, Jack. And I know how to show it in a way you will understand._

"Uh, Jack?"

Jack O'Neill poked his head through the doorway. Daniel snickered; he knew he hadn't left.

"Daniel?"

Daniel smiled, his eyes shining. He could see the tension melt from Jack's worn face. "So, want me to bring the whipped cream or the shaving cream?"


End file.
